


My Enemy and My Brother

by Knowmefirst



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Holmes Brothers, Holmes Brothers' Childhood, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 13:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4961611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/pseuds/Knowmefirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how much Sherlock denies caring for his brother every single day, that always changes when he knew Mycroft been hurt in some way and this time around it doesn't change that either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Enemy and My Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alley_Skywalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/gifts).



> I couldn't resist writing for you when I saw the Holmes Brothers :D So, I hope you like it and I gave you something you like. 
> 
> Note: Not beta, sorry!

  
There weren't many things that surprise Sherlock, maybe the stupidity of others but that wasn't here nor there. However finding the black car waiting outside 221b as he was leaving did. The chauffeur opened the door and indicated for him to enter, he gave a sigh in resignation and got in expecting to see his brother tapping that insufferable umbrella. What he wasn’t expecting was finding Anthea sitting down by herself. And if there was one person he could never deduced was Anthea, so he was at the mercy of whatever she wish to tell him. However, one thing he did know, if Mycroft wasn’t here Sherlock knew for a fact that his brother wasn’t abducting him. If there was one thing his brother never tried with him was abduct him, not after the first disaster the first time Mycroft tried. They both learn that the hard way. 

Now here he was without his brother insight and Anthea sitting in front of him and staring at him. Anthea wasn’t even tapping on her phone like she always tended to do, and that itself was unsettling. However, nothing of that showed on his face, he only stared back calmly waiting for her to start. They could have been driving for all he knew, or maybe they hadn’t even move. Nevertheless, what he did know was that it had been exactly twenty-five minutes since he got in the car to the point where the chauffeur was opening the door for him again. When Sherlock step out of the car he was expecting many things, an abandoned building , the morgue or even Mycroft’s house. But the Hospital? That wasn't something he was expecting when he first look at the building in front of him. 

Sherlock look over at Anthea but knew when he look into her eyes that there was no point of him asking what was going on as he wasn’t going to get any answers at the moment. He just follow Anthea into the hospital and pass a few nurses station and a few body guards hiding between the staff and patients. He looked at Anthea and raise an eyebrow but she didn't said anything just kept on walking. After a few minutes they stop at a mahogany door and without knocking she opened the door. If Sherlock was honest with himself he didn't know what he had been expecting as Anthea opened that door. But looking at his brother in that moment with the top of his body cover in bandages, an IV in his arm and an oxygen mask on. He had known, deep down who was behind that door.

He stared at his brother for a while not moving away from the door and in those few moment, he could see exactly what had happened to his brother. He could always deduce his brother as his bother could deduce him, but Sherlock wish that he hadn’t done so in that moment. He could see everything, the bruises on Mycroft arms, the scratches of nails on his hands and Sherlock could even spot witch side had the broken rib. One thing he wished he wouldn’t had known was the bullet wound on his brother’s stomach. He moved away from the door and stopping next Anthea and waiting for that explanation. 

“He was taken when we were leaving the U.S.A embassy. We didn’t had time to act, one minute he was coming out, the next minute he was taken.” Anthea cross her arms. 

“How long?” Sherlock knew he didn’t need to explain what he meant. 

“Four and a half hours.” Anthea said; as she started texting on her phone. 

He didn’t said anything aloud, but in his mind he knew that four and a half hours was enough time to make some damage to anyone. He didn’t know how long he stood there but when he finally pay attention to his surroundings again he found himself alone in the room. He moved without knowing and before he knew it he was standing next to his brother. He didn’t try to reach for Mycroft hand, they both knew he wasn’t that type of person nor was Mycroft. They didn’t tend to let their emotions get the better of them or so many believe but if there was one weakness that they both had was, each other. They were brothers after all even if Sherlock sometimes pretended Mycroft was his enemy. 

As he stood there staring at Mycroft breathe in and out, he started to remember all those times that he had wanted to play pirate. Mycroft was the only one that would be willing to play with a hyperactive child. Sherlock let his lips tilt up as he remember all those times that he’d made Mycroft walk the plank and the other would go along with it, even jumping down into the grass and staining his pants in the process. All those times that Sherlock would make him do silly things because Mycroft had been capture by pirates, and Mycroft would do everything that Sherlock would ask without complain. 

Now seeing his brother just lying there and not moving he wish he could capture all those times when they had been just children. He remember that first time that he had told Mycroft that when he grew up he would become the greatest pirate to ever sail the sea, his brother had looked up from his book and roll his eyes. But Sherlock would never remember that Christmas he had encounter in one of his many presents one from Mycroft. He remember looking over at his brother but Mycroft hadn’t been looking at him. So turning back to his present he had open it and found inside a beautiful black pirate hat with a red bandana attached. He had gotten up and hugged Mycroft, the only and last time he had done so. 

He came back from his mussing when he heard movement from the bed and saw his brother opening his eyes and looked at him. Mycroft reach up and took off his mask. 

“I didn’t know you care brother dear.” Mycroft rasped out. 

Sherlock pass him a cup of water and help him drink, “I don’t.” 

He watch as Mycroft lean back and close his eyes and if he stay there all night. They never mention it.


End file.
